


The Walls Kept Tumbling Down

by kiexen



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, geralt of rivia needs to come back and apologise to his bard, it's really only geraskier if you squint.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:14:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22963711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiexen/pseuds/kiexen
Summary: Life gets boringly monotonous when you get stuck in a routine, Jaskier had found. When the only variance is deciding to stay in a town more than one night if the payout was good, instead of leaving immediately in the morning. When you’re not (shouldn’t be, anyway) waiting each day for someone to show up and let you ride along on an adventure worth telling stories about. When each day falls away, as insignificant as the last.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	The Walls Kept Tumbling Down

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't planning on actually posting this, it was mostly just to get the idea out of my head. The original idea was an amv/pmv BUT I already had plans for a(n) a/pmv to this song, and I wasn't about to make two with the same music. So, short fic it was. I hope you enjoy anyway!
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m326LNIRB3k

Life gets boringly monotonous when you get stuck in a routine, Jaskier had found. When the only variance is deciding to stay in a town more than one night if the payout was good, instead of leaving immediately in the morning. When you’re not (shouldn’t be, anyway) waiting each day for someone to show up and let you ride along on an adventure worth telling stories about. When each day falls away, as insignificant as the last.

*~*

_“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take_ you _off my hands!”_

Jaskier gave a huff and flipped over in bed. Gods, this bed was so bad he thought he may have just done better passing through this town and sleeping under the stars. At least the view would have been much nicer. Would have saved him coin too, which he was running terribly low on. The bard surely wasn’t going to get enough to cover what he has spent here by playing. The people have been getting stingier with their coin as of late, in the few months ever since Geralt—

With another unhappy puff of breath, the lithe man gave up entirely to sit up and drag himself out of bed. Making his way over to the window to pull the curtain open carefully, he looked out into the mud-caked street to see weak streaks of pre-dawn light cascade over the rundown buildings. So much for sleeping tonight. A wiser man with more gold may choose to stay another night so he wouldn’t be travelling on no sleep, but Jaskier has never been very wise in many departments.

Turning away from the window, he slowly set about gathering what little things he owned. If he left soon, he would be in the next town by noon tomorrow. Gold will be flowing a little better there, he hoped.

Once ready, Jaskier didn’t waste much time getting on the road, stopping only to buy some bread from the baker. Forcing his mind away from what plagued his sleep, he spent the time travelling attempting to work on a new ballad that has been troubling him for weeks, determined to not let that which haunts him in rest disturb his waking hours as well.

*~*

That night, as he sits next to his fire late into the night, mindlessly strumming his lute softly, Jaskier thought maybe, if he closed his eyes, he could imagine nothing’s changed at all and a larger, white-haired man was sat across the flames from him.

*~*

_Posada._ Of _course_ the next town over is Posada. Even the rolling grey clouds darkening the sky reflected how he felt.

*~*

As the crowd jeered and someone threw food at him, Jaskier felt a gut-wrenching sense of déjà vu. “Oh, fuck off, I haven’t been here in _years_ , and you all are _still_ so vocal about your opinions,” the bard grumbled as he turned to put his lute away for now to take a break. Turning away from the empty corner of the room, he swore under his breath as he saw the table that the man he loved (who are you kidding, Jaskier, _loves_.) once sat on the day they met, was the only one available.

Slumping into the seat against the wall, Jaskier sighed. _How am even I supposed to be optimistic about this?_


End file.
